


Fire In The Sky

by SnowXeno



Category: Original Work
Genre: Air Force, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Burning, Intoxication, Military, World War II, pilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-07-31
Packaged: 2019-06-19 16:05:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15513465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowXeno/pseuds/SnowXeno
Summary: Johnathon was a WII Royal Airforce pilot, come, hear his story.





	Fire In The Sky

Burning, pain, fear: that is what I felt before death. Now I am stuck here, in this field, bound to the skeleton of what is left of my plane, she was a beautiful P-38 Lightning, nicknamed the "fork-tailed devil" by the Germans. But you are here now, to listen to my story. Perhaps you can help me move on. 

 

*** 

 

I joined the Eagle Squadrons the second year of the war, American people and soldiers who smuggled themselves to Britain to join the RAF, the Royal Air Forces. I had left my family behind, my wife and young daughter. Luckily, I had some flight experience in me. This gave me an advantage over those who had joined with no experience, this of course rubbed some people the wrong way. I was particularly unpopular with the men who had joined the military from wealthy families who had a lower ranking, by one rank or many then me. 

 

I had made a few friends when I joined, Aircraftman Albert Barnaby, 18, and Aircraftman Noah Wittmore, 19. We would head to the "feeding area" as Albert would call it, every morning together. "Cup of joe, Johnny boy?" Albert yawned. 

 

"Thought I told you not to give me nicknames, and yes coffee would be a god send." I said smiling at him. "How was your night, boys?" I said as I started eating my food. 

 

"Danced with so many Janes, couldn’t feel my legs after awhile" Noah said, a smirk spreading across his face. 

 

"Or it was all the whiskey you'd drank try'in to impress the pretty one who kept batt'in her eyes at ya." Albert said, looking smug. "What was'er name, Jackie? Martha?" 

 

"Her name was Kathrine, you wanker." Noah huffed, stuffing food into his mouth. 

 

I listened as their banter continued for a few more minutes, a content smile resting on my face. "Johnathon, heard yer gittin ya'plane!" Albert said ecstatically. 

 

"Could you repeat everything you just said, but slower and in English?" I said laughing quietly. 

 

"I said, I heard you are getting your plane." Albert said, pouting like a child who got scolding by their father. "Watch'a gon'get?" 

 

"I was told I was going to receive some new model that was from America, brand new. What did they call it," I paused for a moment thinking, "I believe it was a P-38 Lightning. Told me it would be able to do more than fire bullets and drop bombs. Recon. missions and such too." I'll admit I was more excited about getting to check out the aircraft and fly it then anything else. I hadn't gotten my own plane, most of the time I was co-piloting in another plane. But the Americans had just joined due to a bombing in Pearl Harbor, and here I was getting a brand-new aircraft. 

 

"I bet she'll be all sleek n' shiny, wait'in in the hangar for you, like a wife waiting for their husband to return from home!" Noah whooped. "Look don’t let any of the rich wankers steal this from ya. Got it? Now, what are ya' gonna name'er?" 

 

I looked confused for a moment, "Oh, you mean name my plane? Probably after my wife or daughter. Why exactly?" 

 

"Everyone does it, its tradition!" Noah stated matter-o-factly. 

 

When lunched ended, I want back to my bunk and changed. I had been ordered to come to hangar A-10 in full gear. Slowly but surely, I pulled all the items on. My uniform included a leather helmet and goggles, a tanker jacket, overalls, an oxygen mask, leather gloves with silk inserts, thick leather boots, a life vest, a RAF first aid kit, and my emergency oxygen bottle and parachute. I could feel my excitement rising as I headed towards hangar, or maybe it was all the gear I was wearing. God it was a beautiful day to fly, thought to myself. Really, it couldn’t have been better, the sun was out, only small breeze, and decent temperatures. 

 

She was magnificent. A dark metallic green with yellow accents, her design was truly one of the most unique I have ever seen. She looked as if someone had taken two other planes, melded the wings that would meet and inserted the cockpit in-between them and then connected the horizontal stabilizers together. I ran my hand along her side slowly, listening to the briefing I was given. I was to learn the basics and to take it on a test flight. Excitement was vibrating through me as the instructor told me about her. How the plane was very forgiving, but if you weren't careful it could be easily mishandled. 

 

I felt at home in the cockpit. I glanced over her controls, and was a bit overwhelmed, but I figured them out eventually. I started her engine, she was quiet, a lot quieter then I had imagined. I was given the signal to go, and I did. I started moving down the strip, picking up speed quickly. Lift off was thrilling. I flew around the compound, testing her out. Keeping the warning the instructor had given in mind, I flew with caution at first, then testing the limits. When I landed I was given I quick debriefing and told to go on with my day as usual. 

 

That night me and the boys put on our civvies and headed to a pub to celebrate my flight. The night was going swell, drinking and talking over Artie Shaw's Begin the Beguine. Noah and Albert went to go dance when Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy from the Andrew Sisters came on. I laughed as they danced with some of the ladies out on the dance floor. After a few hours, I stumbled out of the pub to get some fresh air. 

 

My night was only to go down from there. I heard commotion from one of the allies. As a gentleman, and someone who's had a bit too much for the night, I made my way to the alley. What I saw alarmed me, I saw four RAF airmen, in uniform, corning a young lady. I stepped forward at first, but then drew back. Four against one, I was going to be no hero that way. My best option was to grab one of the Air Marshals who was not to swacked , so that they could act accordingly. 

 

What went on after I alerted the Air Marshal is a blur. But the next day I was alerted that the four men had been stripped of their titles and kicked out of the Royal Air Forces. It was not what I thought would happen, because of the war and the need for men. But this event was quickly removed from my thoughts. I was given the orders that I was to be flying again today. 

 

I had the weekend off, so I went into town. I, of course, had my civvies on. While I had no family in this area, I would stop at the post office to send mail to my family and receive some too. My little girl was growing up. She had just turned two about a week ago according to the letters date. After finishing up my business at the post office, I started my trek back towards the base. I took a different route this time. This route took me through a few alley ways. After the first one, I heard quite whispering and footsteps. I glanced back and saw four men following me, but they seem not to be paying me any attention. Even so I sped up my pace. "Hey, you there!" One of them yelled. I slowed and glanced back. "Yeah, you!" The same one said. 

 

"Yes?" I answered, confused on what they wanted. 

 

"You’re the one who got us fuck'in kicked outta the Royal Airforce!" Another yelled. 

 

"You're a dead man when we get our hands on ya!" The third one yelled. The fourth looked as if he was trying to burn me alive with his glare. It came to me, these four must have been the men who were kicked out of the RAF. I needed to get out of there, once again I was a disadvantage. All five of us were perfectly sober, from what I could tell. There were no Air Marshals here to assist me, I was on my own. So, I did what any man would do, I ran as fast as I could. The four men were chasing me, there were more of them, but I was faster. 

 

The chase lasted longer than I thought it would, they chased me all the way to the base. I darted across the street to where the base's entrance was, I was safe. I looked across the road to see the four men. "You're a dead man! Don't You ever fucking forget that!" The fourth one hollered. I turned and walked into the base, panting and heaving for air. I got to my bunk and collapsed onto, exhausted by the chase. It was just a onetime occurrence, right? 

 

As time went on, the chase faded from my thoughts. I started going into the field more often. I did everything from evacuation missions to dive bombings. At one point I made the mistake of dropping a depth charge on a whale, which the put me into the Royal Order of Whale Bangers club, I will admit that I did laughed. Everything seemed to be going well for me. Soon, we P-38 Lighting pilots learned of the nicknames our planes were given by the Luftwaffe and the Japanese. The Germans called them the 'fork-tailed devils' and the Japanese called them 'two planes, one pilot'. Unfortunately, my good times where about to come to an end. 

 

Something odd was going on with my plane. I was warned she would be difficult to operate in cold weather, but even so I couldn’t put my finger on it. It didn’t feel like it was because of the weather. There had been a few odd occurrences over the past few days. I had found a side door open, and foot prints around the hangar. I had just figured I had left the door open the day previously, but the foot prints where all different than mine, in total there were four different tracks besides mine. Not only that but there were hand prints on my plane. Something was going on. I checked my plane over but everything looked fine. 

 

It was the middle of the night when we were woken up by the Devil's voice, the bugle was crying out loud enough to get past Jefferson's snoring. Hurriedly, I pulled on my flight gear and got in line. We were briefed that the Germans where moving in, and fast. Me and five other pilots where to get in and bomb their forces. It was cold out, meaning it was going to be hard on her. I was going to have to be careful. I ran towards hangar A-10 when I heard foot steps behind me. It was Noah and Albert, "Aye, Johnathon, you gotta be extra careful, 'ight?" Noah said, looking me in the eyes. His expression was serious. I had told them about my plane and they both were suspicious. "You'll be cruise'in higher than normal John. Your plane handles cold weather bad as it is. Let alone the fact you will be carrying about 4000 pounds of bombs! You also have how weird it has been work'in too! If something seems wrong, radio it in right away, got it?" Noah barked. 

 

I sighed, "I will radio it in, I promise. I'm not cashing in my chips just yet." They both glanced at each other. The tension between us three was thick, I could have cut it with a knife. 

 

"You check out, and I'll bring ya' back to life and kill you again myself" I knew he meant it too. 

 

"Hurry up Johnny, don' wanna be last one out. Go bomb those Jerrys to the ground!" Albert was trying to lighten the mood. I appreciated that characteristic about him. I miss them. I climbed into my cockpit and strapped in. Albert and Noah moved out of the way as I started her up and moved her out of the hangar. Soon I joined the others in the air. We stayed below the clouds at first. It was going to take a few hours before we hit the Germans. 

 

We were armed to the teeth. All the planes on this mission where outfitted with bombs, and plenty of ammo. I was able to stay near the back due to my plane's 4 long range .50 mm machine guns on its front. The flight took several hours. I heard the message come across the radio that we were to start gaining altitude. I felt sick, as if I knew what was to happen. I felt my plane shake. Odd, I thought. Things got worse as we reached our set altitude. She had never reacted like this, I was starting to worry. We were given the orders to drop our loads once over the enemies. I took a deep breath as I readied myself to drop the bombs. My bombs dropped, and there was a loud pop. 

 

I started dropping. “Mayday, mayday!” I yelled into the radio. I started trying everything to regain altitude. If I didn’t recover, the Ack-Acks would get me. I was getting hot. What a funny thing to notice. I glanced to me left, out of the windows of the cockpit. I was looking into inferno itself. The sound of rapidly fired bullets, but is that what took out the left engine? No, it had only started now. I had to save my right engine, she could still fly with one engine. I paled as I heard an explosion, I didn’t have to look. They had taken out the right engine. I could bail. The ejection wasn’t happening, so I tried to bash the windows out. The realization that even if I did I was a dead man. I sat and closed my eyes. I heard shouting on the radio but never responded. 

 

I felt the flames reach the cockpit. I was so hot. My tears burned my cheek. Dear god I’m going to die here. Images of my child and wife flashed through my mind. Is this what they mean when they say your life flashes before your eyes? The glass shattered under the heat and flames flooded the cockpit. I swallowed the bile rising in my throat. I opened my eyes, the ground was closing in. I reached forward and grabbed the controls. If I am to die here, then I’m going to take as many Germans out with me as I can. I aimed the plane towards their forced the best I could. The roar of the flames covered the sound of the anti-air machines rattling. I yelled in pain as flames licked at my face and burned the clothes I was wearing. I never felt the impact.


End file.
